I wanna go home3! Are you listening?
by LadyoftheDrow
Summary: Started by Kateness777 and Lizardios. Late one night/early one morning, an 18-year-old tries to play the game and ends up participating in the story-line. Stuck until the end, she tries to make the most of what she's got. Self-Insert.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Well, here's my piece of the I Wanna Go Home series, started by Kateness777, who I have permission from to write this and continued by Lizardios. They're currently way ahead of me story-wise, let's see if I can catch up._

_Yes, this is a Self-Insert, so the character is basically me, but you can't expect me to be totally honest about myself, now can you? I've taken the 'virtual life' idea to a whole new level, my character has blood relatives in Ivalice, but they don't look much like my real family, I'll tell you that much. My real maternal grandfather is Portuguese though, that's close enough to a Rozarrian, isn't it? Whatever. And my other relatives are a mix of English, Welsh, French, German and something._

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**I wanna go home 3! Are you listening?!**

**Chapter 1**

**Screen-flash-warp . . . PS2!**

On the computer, Razecha Sylblade failed to neutralize a Kournan Guard Post once again and drew the attention of the Garrison, siege fire obliterating the already weakened team before the new Sunspear Leader could order them to run.

Scowling at the screen, I immediately click log out and close Guild Wars down, that was the third time tonight I'd failed that mission, maybe I should try a different Hero combination or join a real player team . . . . no, that'll be my last resort . . . Inbox?

Nope, no new chapters to read, glancing at the time I find it reading 11:58, an hour or two of game time left . . . blissfully silent night owl game time.

No more Guild Wars, what should I play? Puzzle Pirates? Nah, got enough puzzlish stuff from the Mission. Definitely not portal for the same reason, that leaves the PS2.

"Come on, fuzzbutt," the white fuzzball of a dog picks up his head and looks at me blankly, "Upstairs."

He grudgingly rises to his feet and stretches, leaving me to watch impatiently until he finally decides to jump off the couch and follow me . . . Slowpoke.

Upstairs, I make a face as I catch an earful of my dad's snoring, no wonder that mom usually sleeps on the couch nowadays, I have a hard time sleeping through the living chainsaw and I'm a heavy sleeper! I close both bedroom doors securely and turn the radio on low to block out the sound, mostly that is.

On the bed, the seven-year-old Bichon has already curled up on the far corner and gone back to sleep, lazy mutt. I quickly shed my synth socks and free my hair, sitting down on the mattress and taking my time to brush out my hair while I actually can remember to do so.

Despite constant efforts to clean my room, it only keeps a bare semblance of that, just enough to walk through it somewhat easily. After all, I really don't spend much time in here, except to sleep, play on the PS2 or avoid my dad's personality flaws. True, there is are over two hundred novels littering the shelves and random nooks that I could read, but those I actually like, I've already read multiple times, what's the fun in that? An example? I read Harry Potter 1, 2 and 3 at least twenty times each, probably closer to thirty, number 4 about a dozen times, 5 three times, 6 twice and 7 once. The last three are less covered since we never owned them, only borrowed. Myeh.

Glancing around the room, I locate a few scattered game cases. Atelier Iris 2? nah, it's fun but I'll save it for later . . . Final Fantasy VII? I don't think my eyes would be able to stand the low-level graphics at the moment. . . What the heck in Herdy Gerdy doing in here? I thought I hid that last month . . . empty case . . . not that one . . . oh, this'll work, Final Fantasy XII Collector's Edition, haven't played this for awhile, I can start my 'perfect' game.

I retrieve the PS2 and set it up, snatching my card from where it lay on the floor, the disk quickly finding it's place inside. Next came the channel adjustments, VCR settings . . . there.

Already bored with how long it takes to get to the start menu, I pull out the booklet and flip through it, not really reading it, simply examining the background pictures.

"I wonder what it would be like to be a Sky Pirate?" I muse, looking over the bios once again. "Always moving, searching for a thrill. Much more exciting than here, for sure."

Shrugging, I realize that the intro is finally far enough to start the game and pound the X button to start a new game, not paying much attention until the screen falls into fuzzy blackness.

Sighing, I smack the side of the aging television to clear the static, but a fraction of a second later it's back, with a major vengeance, "You've got to be kidding me!" Another smack did nothing. Now thoroughly disgusted with my hand-me-down electronics, I rise to my feet and yank the plug from the wall.

Returning to my bed I reach over and pet Snowball, who merely stretches out a little and continues to snooze away. I snatch the pilfered Nintendo DS from under my mattress and look back towards the fuzzy screen as I turn it on

. . . Wait

Fuzzy Screen? I thought . . . It's still ON!? What the Flying Ultima Crystal Kingdom!? I reach over and hit the power switch on the TV, which apparently wants to prove it's stubbornness by not reacting to even that simple act.

Scowling at the screen, I freeze as it suddenly turns white, the white doesn't stop there though, hearing 'Fuzzbutt' yelp behind me, I try to avoid the spreading whiteness by standing up. By the time I reach my feet, my room is gone, plain flat whiteness beneath my feet.

What, is a little girl or a black panther gonna show up now? I don't want to mess around with Wolfram and Hart right now.

Spinning, I spot a familiar slim silver box on the floor, a matching controller plugged in and a completely clear memory card stuck into the first slot. Um . . .

I approach the exact duplicate of my PS2 Slim Platinum and frown suspiciously, where's the card in the memory card? It's empty. The PS2 abruptly flips open and another flash, this time black, erupts from the location of the disk.

Then everything went black, literally and figuratively.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

**A/N:** _So . . . how was that for a starter? Kateness? Lizardios? I do already have Chapter 2 close to done, should be posting it fairly soon and I've got a start to Chapter 3 as well. More of a prologue really than a chapter with it's length, but whatever . . . the other chapters will be a good deal longer, C2 is already 9 pages long as it is and it still has chunks missing from it._


	2. To The Palace!

**A/N:** _Well, the Pilot chapter seems to have been received well . . . much better than the first time I dared to post something on . . . hopefully those who read this find the first 'real' chapter as interesting. Of note, before you decide to nitpick certain facts or incidents in this chapter: My newest NGSPoD (Khopesh) has managed to wake some of the plotbunnies that were slumbering in the depths of my mind. And when my plotbunnies are active, I find it very difficult to not include their sometimes quite random ideas. _

_Also, my little sisters watch Hannah Montana and Wizards of Waverly Place, often and repetitively, so hints of the character's personality has rubbed off on me due to hearing the episodes in the background multiple times EVERY SINGLE DAY. If any of you watch these series, you'll recognize their influence, in fact, they influenced the title of the previous chapter, the Russos that is._

_Anyways, on with the chapter._

**A/N2:** _Since I don't have a Beta Reader, I didn't have anyone to catch the mistakes I made in writing this, they should be fixed now, but point out anything that looks off to you._

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**I wanna go home 3! Are you listening?  
**

**Chapter Two**

**To The Palace!**

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"Mmnnn," I groaned quietly in protest at the light hitting my eyes, I started to shift to the side to pull my quilt up to block it . . . wait a minute, this has too much give for my mattress, or the couch . . . I opened my eyes to see a blur of gray, okay, where are my glasses?

Stretching my arm out for what appeared to be a shelf with a glasses-shaped blur, I felt my 'bed' shift underneath me until . . .

"Graahh-mph!" With a sigh, I pushed myself off the floor and glared at the form of what I now realized to be a hammock and kicked it, squeaking as it flipped and a pillow landed on my face.

I ignored the pillow in favor of snatching my glasses off the shelf, oh, no wonder that fall hurt so much, the floor is metal, in fact, the entire room is metal, including the door on the far side of the smallish room, the shelving in the corner I'm sitting in, the cords supporting the padded hammock, the bolted down table in the corner to my left . . .

Shaking my head, determined to discover my location later, I look down at my clothes, my cut-off jeans and thin yellow Kagome shirt are gone, replaced with a pair of loose true blue trousers and a long-sleeved white shirt. Sleeping clothes, most likely, I quickly decide as my bare feet start to chill from the metal floor. I raise one arm and get a better look at the sleeve, it was snug around my wrist with a narrow netted strip on the outer seam.

Noting another difference, I pull off my glasses and squint to get a better look at them, the lenses are narrower, only half an inch tall and the wire frame barely visible, a quick test reveals they're the 'unbreakable' ones I was thinking of getting last time.

Well, that's one worry off my list, now, to deal with the others.

"Where am I?" I muttered as I finally got to my feet and slipped my new and improved glasses back on.

"Your cabin on the Strahl."

"Little blonde girl say what?"

Only a few feet in front of me, a young girl had appeared, I'm sure she wasn't there a moment ago. She rolled her green eyes at me.

"You're on the Strahl."

"As in, Balthier's Strahl?" my eyes trail to a few weapons hanging on the wall, a Javelin, a Silver Bow and a Spear, "In Ivalice?"

"Yep!" she nodded with a grin, "You better get moving, though, you're supposed to be meeting Balthier and Fran in the Palace."

"Nyeh?" frowning, I set my hands on my hips, "Why am I on Ivalice, never mind supposed to meet up with Sky Pirates?"

"You wanted to know what it would be like to be a Sky Pirate," She shrugged, "Now you can, just a few things to get you started, though, then you're on your own. One: you've got an adoptive mother who lives in Balfonheim, you'll know her when you see her,"

"Two: you left Balfonheim two years ago to make a name for yourself and had a run-in with Ba'Gamnan, coincidentally, at the same time as Balthier. You teamed up to escape and then wandered on your own, traveling and trying to avoid the Imperials."

"Three: you joined up with Balthier and Fran about three months ago, since then, you've become a full-fledged member of their partnership."

"And four: your blood mother was the half-blood daughter of the current Emperor Margrace."

"Anything else you'd like to throw at me while you're at it?" I asked dryly, crossing my arms and tilting my head at her.

"No, I think that's about it," she shrugged again. "Except for the bit that you can't go home until the end of all this."

"Uh-huh."

"You're pretty calm . . ."

"I've had practice," well, practice and the ability to force myself to remain calm, like when there's a bat in the house and it's flying around my head and my reflexes are trying to get me to shriek and dodge it. Reflexes can be quite troublesome sometimes . . .

"Make sure to grab your license board before you leave," she gestured to a strange metal plate on the shelving.

"You never said who you were?"

"I didn't?" she blinked in surprise, ". . . I'm the spirit of your PS2, I don't really have a name, I suppose you could think one up, you've had enough practice naming characters, but . . ." the Personification of my PS2 grinned mischievously, "Time for me to go, bye!"

With that, she was gone, without any effects, just gone. Turning away from the empty space I step over to the shelving, where several objects are arranged, including clothing. After several minutes of examining my apparently typical outfit, I pull on the black leather pants, which was somewhat tricky, considering the sides were held together not by a seam but by crisscrossing white leather ties. Next came a pair of belts with smaller black versions of the utility pouches they have in Naruto, each with a different colored snap. Filing away that interesting bit of information for later, I grabbed the pair of black high boots, grinning slightly at the sight of the nearly two inch thick soles and zipped them up. My favorite type, you won't catch me dead in a pair of heels any thinner than the shoe itself.

Finally, came a, what to call it? . . . light armor I suppose, it was somewhat like the one Balthier wears, except it was plain black and seemed to be more flexible. Unlike Balthier's though, it tied up the sides and the collar was wider, looking closer, I found a pocket of sorts just below the collar on the inside, inside which was a cloth covered object.

"What's this?" Sitting down on the floor, I unwrapped it and found several metal objects tucked in place, a tool kit? Ah, of course, pirate . . . quite a convenient little pocket, "Whatever."

Finally dressed I twisted my hair into my usual bun-tail and snatched the metal object that the blonde had pointed out. "It looks almost like the 'real' one . . ."

The left side was engraved with the familiar sight of the license board, while the right side was inscribed with a large blank square and above it, the abbreviation D.R.A.J.M. beside the number 3, my LP at the moment I suppose. The majority of the licenses were blacked out with an empty circle in the middle, six of them though were colored in with illegible script, eighteen nearby lightened to a plain grey. Touching one of the colored squares, the empty square on the opposite side filled with information:

Bows 1

Status: Active

Cost: 20

Contents: Shortbow, Silverbow

Nodding to myself, I touched the next square over, a grey one:

Maces 1

Status: Available

Cost: 20

Contents: Bronze Mace, Mace

Skimming through the licenses, I found that the other five activated licenses were Spears 1, Light Armor 1, Light Armor 2, Libra and Black Magic 1. Touching Black Magic 1, a pulse of energy shot up my arm and I found I knew exactly how to cast Thunder, Blizzard and Fire, similarly I knew how to cast Libra.

Well, that certainly made things simpler, no wonder they never seemed to need to train their magicks/technicks, they could review them just by touching the license.

Starting to close it, I paused as I noticed a button on the side, pressing it, a panel slid out, I let my brown eyes skim over the information there, "Well, isn't this interesting? A Status screen?" According to this I have a strength rating of 20? And a Threat Level of 7, well, not that bad considering I'm not really much of an athlete. I get my exercise by carrying bags of feed, mowing the lawn and cleaning. It was especially not that bad considering what I recalled of the start of the game, weren't Fran and Balthier only 5 or 6? Well, unless you spent hours making Vaan run around the Estersand killing Wolves and Cactaurs to level him up, like I did the first time I played, getting him to level 10 'just in case.'

Closing it and tucking it away, I eye the weapons on my wall, which one to take? Sure, I won't get to use it tonight, but once we reach Barheim Passage . . . wait, yes I will get to use it tonight, have to survive the Waterway. I don't really want to mess around with ranged weapons right now, so . . . Javelin or Spear?

Spear.

Soon after, I left the Strahl, weapon secured in a harness built into the back of my armor. Well, this isn't so hard.

Maybe I thought too soon . . .

Milling around the Gate is a group of Rabanstrans, impatiently awaiting the chance to get inside. How am I supposed to get past that?

Resigned to having to walk around the city to the South Gate to enter through Lowtown, I absently watched a group of chocobos being led towards the gate by a tired-looking pair of travelers. The foremost of which speaks to the guards, who waves for the Gate to be opened.

"Wark!"

. . . what? I stare as one of the chocobos tugs free of its instantly frantic handler and starts to dart around the area, knocking down several humes and a moogle before they can get out of the way. The handler looks as if he's about to cry as the other three chocobos in his grasp attempt to follow their comrade.

Wait a minute, a grin spreads across my lips, this could be my chance. Two road-worn handlers, tired and exasperated, they'd be quite grateful for a bit of help with their stock, enough to, say, let a helpful stranger enter the city with them?

A chocobo has the instincts of a chicken and the intelligence of a horse, I thought as I carefully tried to approach the skitterish creature. So, there are three ways to catch one, you can chase it down, scaring the crap out of it and tiring yourself out in the process, or you can lure it with something it enjoys, like Gysahl Greens, or you can sneak up on it as unthreatening a manner as possible.

Well, I don't have any greens and I really don't feel like making a fool out of myself by chasing the chocobo all over the place and tiring myself out. So that leaves . . .

I keep my body as relaxed as possible as I approach the chocobo, if I just act like I'm not going to do anything, maybe . . .

"Wark?" I nearly jump as the chocobo stops and looks at me, or more precisely, my belt pouches. "Kweh?" Uhm . . . do I have something it likes? I open a pouch with a yellow snap and find several fern-like plants. "Wark!"

Unless I'm terribly mistaken, those are greens, definitely need to take an inventory.

"You want one of these, hmm?" I pull one out and yank it back when the chocobo tries to steal it. "Ah-ah, not yet."

It stills and expectantly locks it's eyes onto the green treat, ignoring my hand as I reach up and pet it's neck. So intent on the greens, it doesn't notice when my hand slips from it's neck to the reins.

"There you go," spotting the release of it's target, the chocobo's head shoots forward and snatches the greens from my grasp, happily chewing as I lead it back.

"Ah! Thank you!" the brown-haired man smiles at me in relief upon my approach. "It's good to see there are still some helpful people out here."

"To be honest, I didn't do it entirely selflessly," he actually chuckles at my wording, "I need to get into the city."

"I see, a small enough favor, keep a hold of Kari, we'll have you inside in a moment." Kari is it? The overgrown chicken ruffles my hair with her beak familiarly. I suppose it fits.

"Thank you again, miss," the blonde handler smiled at me as his partner took Kari back.

I nod, offering them both a smile, before approaching the center of the plaza. It was still rather light out, surely I had time to make sure I had any items I might need later?

Two hours and a few hundred gil later, I find myself in the Sandsea nursing a fruity and only mildly alcoholic beverage called a Galbana Nectar. True, I haven't drunk anything more than a sip of champagne before, which I didn't enjoy at all, but who wouldn't try a drink when they find they are allowed to? Not like I have drinking something heavy, just a small glass of light wine. See, I'm being responsible!

It really was rather delicious, I was forcing myself not to gulp it down, relishing the delightful liquid in small sips, no wonder it was called Nectar. It was a beautiful shade of crimson as well, tinted golden when the light hit it _just_ right.

Yes, I know, I'm obsessing.

But then, I'm an artist, and something of a perfectionist.

Though, if my warzone of a house is any indication, I can be lazy as anyone, especially when it comes to cleaning. I only like to clean when I'm in a very good mood or a bad mood.

During my excursion into the shops, I'd figured out the color-coding on my pouches and stocked up on the various items. Greens were chocobo yellow as I discovered previously, Potions were spring green, Ethers were dark blue, not that I had any at the moment. Remedies had a raised green star, Phoenix Downs were crimson, Gold Needles were bronze, Chronos Tears, also empty. were orange, Echo Herbs were silver, Eye Drops were in a plain pouch with an embossed snap, Antidotes were purple, a mere two Vaccines were inside a black pouch, and a white-colored pouch held an assortment of items, including Knots of Rust and a handful of Motes. On the back of my belt were two larger pouches, both empty.

. . . Wait a minute, was that Vaan that just walked in? I blinked and stared as the blonde teen walked up the stairs and past me, approaching a man I realize as Tomaj. As expected, he leaves as quickly as he came and I shake my head slightly as his rush.

"Finally back in Rabanastre, Dala?"

Wait, what? "Hmm?" I look up to find Tomaj speaking to me . . . what does he mean by finally back?

"You haven't done any work for the Clan in quite a while, thinking of starting Hunting again?"

"Maybe," So, I'm a member of Clan Centurio? Nice . . . though I have to wonder, just how many surprises has that meddlesome Conduit knock-off left for me?

"Well, if you do, we're still in the same building, stop by sometime, I'm sure Montblanc will be happy to see you again."

"I'll consider it," he nodded and backed off, returning to his work while I returned to my drink, speaking of which, my drink was nearly empty . . . and I swore myself into leaving once it was empty . . . chikuso, and it was so _good_ . . .

Finally finishing the beverage, I scowl at the empty glass and hand it off to one of the barmaids on my way out the door.

"Now," I muttered to myself as I looked around the darkening light of the capital city of Dalmasca, "To get into the Palace . . ."

I could always try going through the sewers like Vaan . . . I glanced south towards where I knew the east entrance to Lowtown was, then shook my head. Nah, I'll get enough of the Waterway when we're attempting to not get caught by the Imperials.

But, do I trust my skills enough to sneak in the front door, so to speak?

Oh, I know the perfect way to get in . . . a mischievous smirk lit my lips and I started down the Sprawl again with a precise location in mind, I had a Bangaa to catch. Let's just hope he hasn't gone up to the Palace quite yet.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

I guess my karma is trying to make up for my future problems, I mused thoughtfully to myself as the blue Bangaa handed me a large case full of glasses. Gesturing towards one of the round tables, he gave me my instructions, "Now, stack those careful now, like a pyramid, try not to break anything."

"I won't, Migelo," I offered him a confident grin and started to arrange the crystal objects, pondering my luck. Who knew that one of my so-called acquaintances in my non-existent travels had been the owner of the Rabanastre Sundries? PS2 girl probably did it . . . I wonder who else I supposedly know?

From what I understood of Migelo's comments, I had gotten stuck in Rabanastre when King Raminas was assassinated and was shoved into Lowtown with the civilians. During the time I was there, I think I was keeping the orphans in check or something like that. 'The children have been wondering what their favorite sky pirate's been up to, be sure to say hello when you have the chance,' had been what Migelo said, too bad I wouldn't be able to until later. I like kids, except for my siblings, Kit and Shrimp are simply rebellious imps and Meggie-chan? We've never been that close, we _are_ three-and-a-half years apart in age after all.

Setting the last glass in place, my thoughts changed course, does that mean I know Vaan? Would he recognize me? That could be awkward . . .

Earlier, once I'd gotten Migelo to accept my help, I'd gone about making myself less conspicuous, I mean, come on! A teenager wearing armor and carrying a spear is bound to arouse suspicion, right? Karma was on my side though, either that or just another thing you don't see in the games. Apparently, Staffs and Spears, due to their length, are designed to come apart in the center, making it quite easy to hide them under a cloak or loose shirt.

I'd strapped the two-piece weapon to my back and then bought a medium blue headscarf and Sand Cloak from the Bangaa. The Sand Cloak is apparently a fairly common piece of apparel in Dalmasca, made of a light tan fabric that repels sand and heat, it was basically a hooded poncho that was worn like a cloak. It was also perfect for covering my spear, thus making my armor not seem so threatening.

"Ah, Dala," I barely kept from jumping at the sudden appearance of the blue being at my elbow, almost frowning at the repeat of the same name Tomaj had called me, "Done already? Can you check the settings as well? Lajik was in a bit of a rush to get done."

"Sure thing," I smiled again as he took the empty crate from me, "Anything else while I'm at it?"

"If you wouldn't mind . . . setting out the table decorations?" he held out a box filled with crystal fruit and realistic looking flora.

My eyes lit up at the chance to do anything art-worthy and I had the good nature to blush slightly when he chuckled at my almost frantic snatching of the crate, "I'll leave you to it then."

I made a face at his back as he turned away and meandered over to the main tables, rounding them attentively as I rifled through the crate, double-tasking: checking Lajik's work at the same time as I decided how to arrange the decorations. So into my work was I that I didn't notice someone standing nearby until I walked right into them and nearly fell to the floor, as it was, I dropped the crate and one particularly annoying fruit went bouncing across the carpet.

"Careful there," I stiffened at the familiar voice and looked up to find none other than Vayne Solidor pulling me upright, of all the rotten-!

"Sorry, sir," I mentally patted myself on the back as the honorific rolled off my tongue.

"Please," he smiled disarmingly, "Call me Vayne." I did my best not to stare as he retrieved the wayward fruit and handed it to me. "I do not believe I've seen you before?"

"I'm Dala, I help out Migelo from time to time," I was surprised when the half-truth escaped my lips, half-expecting to unwitting say something much ruder.

"Dala," he nodded as I retrieved the fallen crate, "Quite a pretty name for a desert flower as yourself."

!! Am I in some kind of fantasy world? Cause I could've sworn that Vayne Carudas Solidor, the _bad guy_, just flirted with me. Pinch. Oh, yeah, I am in a fantasy world . . . grahyahsagah! Myeehhh . . . I curse you PS2.

My face had quite obviously colored at his words, if his amused smirk was any indication, "I am somewhat surprised, to find a glimpse of Landis here in Rabanstre, most unexpected."

"What?" I blinked, are we still on the same subject here? Or did we switch when I wasn't paying attention.

"You, Dala," he smiled gently, "Have the look of someone of Landis descent, my mother was from Landis so I should know."

"Ahh . . ." I looked away, "I'm sorry, but I must finish my work, if you'll excuse me, s-Vayne."

"Of course," he stepped to the side and I could feel his eyes on my back as I forced myself to continue my rounds of the tables.

Finally calming, I started to set out the decorations. That had been an unexpected meeting . . . I really hope he doesn't recognize me later, that kind of interest would most definitely _not_ help things any.

I mean, he's the villain, right? And if everything goes how it's supposed to, he'll die. . . why am I suddenly feeling guilty about his death? It's not like I like him . . . though, he is cu-Gah! Bad Amanda! Bad! Bad! No liking the villains allowed! Well, at least not this villain . . . No! No more thinking about the appeal of the villain. Ah! Think about other persons! Like-um-like-er . . . BALTHIER! Yes, Balthier is a good subject . . .

Well,_ that_ certainly gets my mind off of the unmentionable one.

. . .

Oh crud, the curse of being a female gamer without a boyfriend, with very good-looking men in her games . . .

There, done. I take a breath as I finally manage to shove my admittedly somewhat perverted thoughts into a shadowy corner of my mind. I waved at Migelo and he nodded, waving me off. Now, to find the secret treasure room. I think I remember how to get there . . .

I'm so glad that XII had a much more 'accurate' map scheme, otherwise, I'd probably get hopelessly lost.

"Hey! Bucket Head!"

Eh-wha? Turning at the same time as the two imperial guards beside me, I caught a glimpse of someone darting out of sight. Well, cue the street-rat, it seems my timing is perfect.

Stifling a smirk as the two guards jog towards the corner, I look around, trying to look purposeful under the scrutiny of the guards. _It was in the far right corner from here, wasn't it? _You're less likely to be stopped if you don't look out of place. I've proven this many times at school, if I look like I have a pass, the staff that I see or even talk to along the way won't think twice about whether I have permission to be in the halls or not. Actually, I don't think I was _ever _asked if I had a pass . . .

Pause. Rewind.

Isn't that the little fire thing? Approaching it, I grin as the wall slides open and step inside before it can close. Ohhhkay, it was most definitely not this dark in the game . . . So, over this way, there should be a button . . .

Come on, where is it, where is it-ah! I felt a piece of stone give under my hand with a satisfying click. So, back a few steps, left side of the golden wall . . . Ohhh, much nicer than the game, I looked over the treasure within appreciatively, sidestepping when the door tried to close on me. _Hey!_

Shaking my head, I reached up and untied my sash and then did the same with my new Sand Cloak, shoving them into one of the empty pouches, surprising myself with just how small I managed to get them. A rebellious strand of hair hung down over my eye and I glared at it for a moment before looking around the room.

In the game, you didn't really see that much of the room, now though . . . it was bigger than I thought and there were pots filled with gil. Gil. Now that was something interesting. I had expected small dime-sized coins, either all worth only one or with different nominations imprinted on them. Well, I was right on the second count. They came in different nominations.

They were actually styled like pennies, dimes, etc, well, sorta. Earlier, I'd taken a good look at the gil I found in a not so easy to find pouch -can't have a pirate losing her money to pickpockets- and filed away the new information thoughtfully. So, 1 pieces were a brass color, then the 5 pieces, 10 pieces and 25 pieces were all bronze and the same size as the singles. 50 pieces, 100 pieces and 500 pieces were silver and the size of a thin nickel except the 500s were quarter size. From what I'd glimpsed from what served as registers here, all the thousands were about the size of a half-dollar or in the larger cases, a silver dollar all printed in gold.

Here in the treasury I quickly confirmed that fact and the fact that the even larger denominations were made of Platinum and what I guess to be Orichalcum, what other metal was rare and shone red-gold? Though for some reason a lot of people think Orichalcum is actually a shade of green. . .

Oh, here he comes, I stepped to the side and ducked behind the goddess statue as he started to rifle around, searching for something he could sneak out of the palace easily no doubt. Why hasn't the statue opened yet? Looking up, I spot a panel on her clothing that is slightly skewed, before I could ponder my movement, I had already touched it and pushed it back into alignment.

Shhskk.

So I got the statue to open early? That means that there's still a bit of time until Balthier shows up . . . Though, if that was how you're supposed to reveal the spot, how did it open in the game when Vaan was on the other side of the room? The Occuria? Uptight immortals . . . wait, Vaan doesn't know I'm here, ohhh this is a perfect spy-ninja moment! That's what my sister's call me, as half the time I don't even really need to try to sneak up on someone, it just happens. It's always fun to see the looks of surprise on other people's faces when they suddenly realize I'm there . . .

He's looking the other way, step to the side, step, step, take a breath, lean forward with a mischievous smirk firmly planted on my face . . .

"Well, that's quite a lovely gem," Vaan stiffened at my closeness and eyed me out of the corner of his eye warily, "Fancy parting with it?"

He spun and narrowed his eyes at me, "It's mine!"

"I beg to differ," I crossed my arms and gave him a lazy grin, "Looks to me like it belongs to the Palace."

"Not anymore . . ."

"Hm," I look from his determined face to the troublesome stone, "You're certainly a green one, aren't you?"

"Green!?" I smirked when he sputtered.

"Why, of course, shouting around, stirring the guards into a frenzy," I chuckled, "Quite a show."

"Indeed," I didn't move as Balthier's voice came from the other side of the room, "It was quite a performance."

"Who are you?" Vaan turned to face the pirate.

"I play the leading man, who else?" He replied simply as Fran appeared behind the blonde orphan. "Fran, the Magicite."

"Now then, I'll take that," the Viera reached for the stone but he side-stepped so that he was facing the three of them.

"No you won't. I found it, it's mine." Didn't we already go over this?

"And then when we take it, it'll be ours," I quipped before Balthier could speak his line.

Vaan looked nervously between the three of us, but then raised voices sounded nearby, distracting my partners, unwittingly, I glance towards the voices as well, nearly missing Vaan darting out a newly opened door.

"Exit stage right," the gunman commented as I rolled my eyes.

"The Gods do not smile upon us," Fran intoned.

"I like it better that way," He replied good-naturedly.

They started towards the door but I stopped as I followed them, spotting a flattened case beside the Goddess statue, blackened with a red design inscribed on the front. It was ovular only about six inches long ways and four wide, like a thick compact.

That design was frighteningly familiar . . .

"Amanda," Fran's voice cut into my thoughts and I quickly shoved the object down my front pocket.

"Coming!"

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

"The Ifrit," I whispered from behind Fran as the airship fired down, "They were expecting party-crashers."

"Stop running!" Is it just me, or does Balthier sound exasperated? I inwardly grin as we block Vaan, leaving him trapped between an annoyed pirate and a hover bike. "End of the line!"

"You have something that belongs to me," he started to advance on the teen and I see the spotlight heading in our direction and speak without thinking.

"Balthier! They've seen us!"

"More this way!" Cue the Imperials.

"Fran! Let's move!" he called out as our game of cat and mouse was joined by the dogs.

Fran changed the course of the hover bike and moments later the leader of our partnership landed behind me, grasping my shoulder as Vaan struggled beneath us.

"Let go of me!" the blonde thief demanded.

Already annoyed by the shaking hover bike I reached down and leveled my best sibling glare at him as I caught a hold of his arm, "Stop struggling before you get us all killed!"

Through our combined efforts, we manage to pull him half onto the somewhat crowded bike as the glossair rings fluctuated, "What's going on, Fran?"

He relinquished his hold on Vaan to my own hands as he tried to catch a glimpse of the controls, "I don't know, it's not heeding me."

My eyes trailed to the pulsing stone and then I met Vaan's gaze as Balthier growled, "Ugh! I don't have time for this!"

"I'm slipping!" I tightened my grasp on Vaan's arm as his near fall almost pulled me off with him.

"Not good!" I look up at the sound of another cannon discharge and allow myself to fall as the ground nears.

"You make a nice landing pad," Vaan scowled as he pushed me off, but I snatched the back of his vest before he could go anywhere, "Nuh-uh, you're staying with us."

He grumbled but didn't struggle overmuch as I jumped down the hole made by the bike and Ifrit's cannons, landing with a slight splash in the waterway behind my partners.

"What happened? Our hover didn't just drop, it disappeared," Fran stated as she looked at the darkened rings.

"Bah," Balthier shook his head, "Forget it. Even if we could fly, the Ifrit's playing with fire and I'd rather not get burned." He smiles at Fran, "We'll go the old-fashioned way."

Seeing Vaan staring at the red-eyed female, I scowl and shove down on his head, "Staring is rude."

"Not many Viera where you come from, thief?" Balthier raised an eyebrow at my familiar actions.

"It's Vaan," he shoved my hand away, "Sorry . . ."

"Well, Fran is special . . . in that she'd deign to partner with Humes."

"Oh?" Fran lent him an amused smile, "Like a Sky Pirate that chooses to steal through the sewers?"

"Pirates?" Vaan asked excitedly, "You're Sky Pirates? So you have an airship?"

"It's Balthier," he cut in dryly before turning serious, "Listen thief-Vaan. If you ever want to see your home again, you do exactly as I say. Myself, Fran, Amanda and you. We're working together now, Understood?"

Vaan followed his gaze towards the Shard in his hand and hid it behind his back, "Don't even think you're getting this."

"The thought never crossed my mind," he walked towards where I recalled we'd find several bodies. He paused and turned back to Vaan and I zoned out on the slightly altered explanation of Gambits, taking the chance to think over the small things on my mental list.

1: The initials on my License Board: DRAJM

2: The name Migelo and Tomaj called me: Dala

3: Vayne's actions before the Fete

4: How easily I got along with Balthier and Fran.

5: That item from the treasure room.

Dala . . . was that my real name here in Ivalice? But, Balthier and Fran called me Amanda, how do you get Dala from Amanda? The License Board, those letters . . . my initials? My initials are AAMJ though, not DRAJM, she gave me a new family though, couldn't be that big of a deal to give me different name . . . what was it though.

"Amanda," I jerked at Balthier's voice and found him standing in front of me, glancing to the side, I saw that Fran and Vaan had started ahead. "Something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine," I push his words off and start to follow the others.

"If you're certain," he continued from right behind my ear.

"I'm always certain," I returned without thinking.

"Hm," he placed a hand on my shoulder and I looked back at him, "I'm here if you ever need to talk, both of us are. You've been there for us often enough."

"I'll . . . keep that in mind," he patted my shoulder and stepped past, leaving me to add one more fact to my list, Balthier: just how close are we?

Shoving my thoughts aside, I followed him to the current object of Vaan's curiosity . . . a pair of dead bodies. Is it just me, or does that seem a bit morbid? Mleh-beh. Though, I have to say, dead bodies are a touch more gruesome in person, even fresh ones. I half-expected that sickly-sweet scent of blood you're supposed to find near bloodied bodies, but I guess it was washed out by the scent of the Waterway . . . I'm so glad I didn't go through it earlier. BLECH! If this is how the waterway smells on it's own, I don't want to meet Cuchulainn . . .

"Insurgents," ah, wait, that one is still alive, injured and unconscious, true, but alive all the same. "Most like they thought to take advantage of a lax watch while the fete's on . . . To feed the good consul a length of steel for his supper. I should think Vayne used to such hospitality. Clever. He used himself as bait to draw them near, and then sent in the Air Brigade. A fine, bloody banquet."

"And Karma was being so good lately," I made a face as the former judge stood, adjusting his sleeves with a face, "Too good, really."

"I hate when your Karma is good," he shook his head with a sigh, "Always means bad news." He eyed his wrists, "I daresay I've soiled my cuffs. Though with Her looming over us, I doubt there's a change of wardrobe at the end of this."

"Huh?" I never really realized how oblivious Vaan can be at times . . .

"Which way?" He's asking me? Well, I _do_ know the way out . . .

"This way," I nodded my head towards the only way with a wry smile, not like we had a choice, was it? "Expect Steelings, Dire Rats, Gigantoads. Though there's a chance that we may come across some Marlboro Overkings, unlikely but still a chance."

He nodded in acknowledgment and with a tilt of his head, motioned for me to take the lead with Vaan, reasonable, considering the two of us were the ones with close-quarter weapons.

"Come on," I snagged the aforementioned swordsman by the arm as I walked past, eliciting a yelp of protest and grin from our 'Leader.'

There was really only one momentous battle in the next area, involving a Gigantoad, two Dire Rats and a Steeling. Vaan immediately zeroed in on the familiar rodents, while Fran and Balthier fired on the Steeling and I paid attention to the Gigantoad. Balthier took a shot at Gigantoad, leaving Fran to take care of the all but dead bat.

Bad idea.

That one shot was enough to steal the amphibian's full attention, not a pleasant thing when you're only a level six with a low-level gun. The Gigantoad lunged forward and Balthier wasn't quite quick enough evading.

Fran hadn't seen, as a second Steeling had appeared and started to harass her and Vaan was still busy with his furry little friends. The Gigantoads always did like killing Balthier on me down here when I played . . . resulting in zero Phoenix Downs. Not fun.

There. I jerked forward and my Spear went straight through it's neck, killing it.

"Could you remove your spear from my face?"

I crouched slightly and saw the tip of the spear was in fact only an inch from his nose, "Sorry, it's stuck."

His expression could have written an essay on how he felt about that bit of information. Shaking my head, I reached down and helped him extricate himself from beneath the monster, on Ivalice, there is no such thing as Pyre Flies, so when something dies, it's body doesn't go anywhere.

He wiped toad juice off his face with a grimace and I tuned out Vaan's laughter in favor of climbing on top of the toad and twisting my weapon free, making a face at the . . . fluids coating it. My reasons for never returning to this sludgehole are multiplying and I know there are more reasons to come.

Spotting another Steeling, I stalk off to vent my frustration. Killing things is so therapeutic. At least in my case.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

It had only been about twenty minutes since we entered the Waterway and I'm already sick and tired of the smell, though, digging the path out of my memory is a good way to keep my mind off it. The sound of metal hitting metal isn't helping.

Wait, metal striking metal, that's Ashe, I mean Amalia. I was proven correct as we descended the stairs beside the most recently discovered Crystal. Speaking of which, Crystals, from what I understand, simply rejuvenate anyone who touches them, bringing you back to full health and mana. And I assume you activate the teleport function of the hybrid Crystals by touching them with a Teleport Stone.

"Who would be next!" The princess's dramatic statement broke into my thoughts, though it was probably more the fact that Vaan nearly knocked me over as he ran past me to tell her to jump.

"She's not alone!"

"Oh, joy," I mutter sarcastically as I take a fresh grip on my Spear, "Imperial Soldiers, how fun."

"Our ranks grow by the hour," Fran voiced her opinion behind me.

"And our troubles with them."

"Let's hope they aren't fatal," I couldn't help but add in my two gil as ran after my partners, spinning my weapon I took the time to count the descending enemies, "Oh look, there's one for each of us."

Looking closely, I was able to discern a faint crystalline blue barrier around the center left soldier, that had to be the Protect spell, though, I thought there was only supposed to four soldiers at this point.

Oh well.

Splitting off, I found I'd gotten paired up with the protected opponent. How delightful. I blocked his first blow with the dull side of my Spear and then twisted, landing a softened blow on his leg that caused him to stumble.

But that wasn't enough to stop him, unwittingly, I had lowered my guard slightly and he took advantage of that with a wild blow that tore my weapon from my grasp and skewed my balance enough to slip in the water, I twisted and managed to keep from smashing my face into the stone, but I wasn't quick enough to avoid being soaked.

I started to push off of the ground but with a flash of foreboding, turned in time to see a sword descending. Mind blank, I pushed off the ground, rolling to the side.

I stared at the blade beside my head for a moment, the blade which had come _this_ close to severing my head from my body. He tried to kill me!

One thing to know about me is that while I do indeed get frightened when I feel weaker than someone, the thing is, when I get scared, I get angry, either at myself or whatever was scaring at me. And when I have a way to fight back, that fear is tossed out the proverbial window and my anger turns into determination. Add in creative Slytherin mind and stir.

Okay, it's time to die, bucket-head!

I folded up and grabbed the hilt of his sword in one hand, the other grasping his wrist and in a well-practiced but never fully used move, twisted, eliciting a pained gasp from my opponent as I gained my new weapon.

I've learned something about licenses, in reality, they are short-cuts to learning the art of fighting. You can use any weapon or armor or even magic without a license if you have the proper knowledge. Even with a license, you need a time to master a weapon, there is a difference between knowing how to use a weapon and actually using it.

I know the basics of swordsmanship, I didn't have much 'formal' teaching, only one youth fighter's practice really, but I have the instincts for it and I knew how to throw my weight behind a blow.

He had been as good as dead the moment I got a hold of his wrist.

My eyes skimmed over the paneling of his armor and locked onto that small slit between the helmet and torso. My aim was a little off, scraping against the chin of his helmet before continuing on target, splitting through his armor and into his neck. I forced myself to not turn away as he gave a sickly gurgle and his hands twitched spasmodically. Yanking back, he fell like a rock and I looked around, taking stock of the others as adrenalin continued to pump through my body.

Fran was keeping distance from her opponent to rain down arrows of pain as she searched for openings, Vaan and Amalia had ganged up on one opponent to my right and Balthier had taken advantage of my dropped spear and was using it against his own target. They all seemed set . . .

"Behind you!" What? A muffled clank of metal hitting metal was all I needed to understand what happened, Vaan and Amalia had two opponents, but I hadn't seen a body anywhere. Shit.

I fell forward and rolled to the side, wincing at the sound of sliced air where I'd been standing. What is it with Imperials and trying to kill me? Aren't they supposed to be trying to _capture_ us? Or do they just not like me? Maybe I really do look like someone from Landis and these Imperials were involved in defeating Landis?

I got to my feet in time to parry a heavy blow that jarred my arm, I'm pretty sure this guy doesn't like me. Ow.

Each of the following blows was just as painful, but he was angry enough that his movements were easy to read. And if he was angry, shouldn't that make it easier to find an opening? There! He raised his sword and I took my chance, slashing at his thigh, cutting through the thin armored skirt there and sending him tumbling to the ground in agony, leaving the narrow target of his neck wide open.

He made one last attempt as I killed him, his sword cutting into my hand as I drew back, leaving behind a nasty looking gash, "Dammit."

I stabbed my sword into a crack in the stone and dug into my green pouch, seizing a potion and downing it, watching in satisfaction as the gash healed over. By the time I turned to see if anyone needed a hand, Fran's was the only one left, and Balthier was already in the process of dealing a killing blow.

"You all right?" I tune out the conversation and pull out my license board, I should have enough for White Magic 1 now, yep, 23 LP, so, there, down to 8 LP. Now I won't have to use up all my Potions. Finished, I slip it back into my pocket as Vaan proves he doesn't have a subtle bone in his body.

I cross my arms and wait out the conversation, unlike my companions, my annoyance isn't out of Vaan's inability to keep his mouth shut . . . it's the fact that I am currently standing in a puddle of sewer water, wearing a shirt that is soaked in aforementioned liquid. I hate wearing wet clothing . . . the heaviness, the stickiness, the drops of water dripping off . . .

"There were others with me," The newly introduced Amalia said meaningfully, looking out at the sewers.

"I'm sorry."

"No . . ." She hung her head and turned back to us, but my eyes were already riveted on the Dawn Shard. It really was beautiful when it lit up like that. All red and fiery . . . a wonderful distraction.

"Oh, now isn't that impressive," The gunslinger eyed the Magicite appreciatively.

"Don't get any ideas," the blonde replied warningly. "I said it's mine."

"I'm afraid the jury's still out on that one."

"We should get moving, there will be even more imperials to dodge when those ones don't report in, I'm already wet, I don't fancy being imprisoned," I leveled a general scowl on the group for a moment, then eye Amalia, "I don't care whether you come with us or not at this point, I just want to get the hell out of here."

The silence following my words was broken by our new guest's nod and statement before she walked off, "Very well."

Not looking at the others, I follow her to wait at the exit, attempting to squeeze the water from my sleeves with little success.

"What's wrong with them?" Oblivious little Vaan, when exactly do you wise up?

"You're a pirate, aren't you?" I look up to find the princess's gaze on me.

"Does it really matter what I am, or what my companions are?" I ask sardonically, "All you need to worry about is getting out of here alive, your highness."

"How did you," I would have slapped myself if I'd been in a better mood, but I'm miserable right now, pulling a 'Mystery woman' will certainly make me feel better.

"I know a Royal when I see one, '_Amalia_,' unlike some other Dalmascans I could name," I effected a lop-sided grin, "Not that I'm a Dalmascan either."

"Then what are you?" she raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Does it matter? You won't be with us long enough to care."

"I suppose not," the princess nodded in acknowledgment and fell silent as the others approached. Well, I think I might have actually earned a bit of respect from her.

Tuning out yet another piece of conversation in favor of checking over my newly returned weapon for damage and finding a way to sheath my new sword. I may not have the license for a broadsword, but I'm good with a sword and it would come in handy if I get disarmed again. I could always sell it later, plus, it's more versatile than my spear, even if it's weaker.

" . . . member of the insurgence," Our 'leader finished, eliciting a scowl from our new guest.

"Resistance."

"Let's go," I cut in and moved into the next room, I don't care if we're just going to get captured, I want out of this miserable place.

You know, maybe I shouldn't have been in such a hurry to get moving.

"Greeaat," I mutter as I spot the three Flans in front of us, "I hate these things."

Yellow blobs of malice, they were bad enough on screen, they're ten times worse in real life. Wait, one, two, three, there's supposed to be . . . four. I look up and quickly scramble backwards to avoid being flattened by the missing flan, I'm already wet, I don't want to be covered in flan goop.

There was an easy way to kill these things, but what was it? What was their weakness. A BM 1 spell, blizzard, lightning, fire? Fire!

"They're weak to fire!" Vaan and Fran both nodded and backed off, charging up fire spells. Each of us has enough magic for about five fires, but only three of us actually know the spell, and Balthier and I know Cure, Amalia has numerous potions and Phoenix Downs . . . this fight actually might end pretty quick.

Seeing the twin Fire spells take out the smallest Flan, I step back again and charge my own Fire, this one centered on the Largest, the one who had nearly landed on me. As soon as it hit, the Flan decided I was more of a threat than Balthier's bullets and started after me, okay, change of plans. Run around the Flan to escape it's wrath and recharge my magic while casting Fire. Yes, that should work.

Eeps! The Flan knocked me to the ground as I mustered a second Fire against it. Off to the side, I saw that Vaan and Fran had split their attention between the two remaining Flan, Amalia and Vaan were concentrating on the smaller of the two, while Fran was already launching a Fire at my attacker, dropping it into critical health.

Fran having caught it's attention with that last attack, I charged a final Fire as Amalia gave the smaller Flan a killing slash that sent it sliding back to the water in pained fear.

"Fire!" I cast the spell verbally, giving it just a little more power than a silent version and sighed in relief when it followed it's kin in retreat.

"That's just," I shook my head as I eyed the evaporating trail left behind by the last Flan. "Glergh."

"Glergh?" Vaan looked at me blankly.

"Yes, Glergh, gross, blech and argh,"

"Up ahead, expect Ghosts, Garchimacera and more Gigantoads," Well, Balthier certainly isn't pleased with the possibility of being squashed again, if his groan is any indication, lucky for him, there should only be one toad up ahead. It's the ghosts that I'm worried about, they cast magic.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

My fears of the ghosts were well founded, as both times we found one, it tried to _barbecue_ me! I may like fire, but not_ that_ much. We'd navigated through the West Sluice Control and the No. 10 Channel to reach the Central Waterway Control. Now it was just a simple matter of entering the Overflow Cloaca and entering Lowtown through Warehouse 5.

Simple.

Not.

The others were perfectly willing to refresh at the Crystal, but I had more of a reason to use it then them. I remember quite well what's inside the Overflow. Firemane. Tough opponent. Especially since we don't have any Water magic. I'm glad I stocked up on Antidotes, because Firemane's Bushfire attack inflicts poison.

Makes me wonder . . . I can remember so much stuff about Final Fantasy, yet half the time I can't give people accurate directions and it takes me several meetings to memorize someone's name. Final Fantasy on the other hand, I've probably memorized the name of every major and minor character in the ones that I've played and how you meet each character. I can do it with both VII and VIII, and the sad thing about that is, I've only played up to Cosmo Canyon in VII, because the disk malfunctioned in the middle of Bugenhagen's 'lecture' on the Planet.

As the door shut and mist started to fill the room, Balthier gave me a pointed look, "She really doesn't like us tonight, does She?"

"You really have to ask?"

At some point during the fight, a spark from Firemane had burned through my hair tie, so when I resurfaced from the water, a wet curtain of hair covered the right side of my face. Being drenched did nothing for my temper, so I was already back in the fray while the others healed up with Antidotes.

I really was starting to like Ivalice, it's a beautiful exotic place after all. With Chocobos. A place where I could fight and explore, adventure. But now . . . I just want to go back home, play around on the computer, chat with my friends, hell, I probably wouldn't mind getting in an argument with my dad! I suppose what they say is true, nobody really likes change.

What the Fuzz just happened?

I blinked uncomprehendingly at Balthier, I was just fighting Firemane, why am I over here?

"You haven't been revived before have you?" Wh-huh? Revived? He gave me a wry grin as he continued to fire on Firemane. "It can be quite disorienting the first time."

I blinked and everything slid back into focus, "Thanks, Balthier."

He nodded and I returned my attention back to the fight, we should be almost there. Firemane readied Bush Fire again and I charged a Cure, casting it on a weakened Vaan a split second before the attack hit.

Downing an antidote, the fight suddenly ended as one of Fran's arrows hit it's eye. As the beast made it's escape, I felt my adrenalin fade, leaving me feeling exhausted and once more able to concentrate on my misery.

I really hate being wet . . .

"Stand where you are!" Oh great, here comes the firing squad. Sure, make us finish off the nasty Fire Horse while you get in place to capture us. How Slytherin of you.

Thirty guards on top of the half dozen rifles? Such overkill.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

I'm wet, I'm tired and now I'm hand-cuffed, when I pictured the journey through the waterway, it wasn't quite this bad. And now we have to just stand here while the Soldiers and civilians mutter about us. I didn't even pay much attention when Amalia was taken away, too busy stewing in my misery, Penelo's voice was enough to gain my attention though, "Wait!"

"He didn't know what he was doing! You have to let him go! You have to!" She tried to push past the guards restraining her.

"Penelo!" the blonde teen looked up at her friend's voice and stilled. "Sorry, that dinner'll have to wait."

"I told you!"

"That's enough!" I scowled darkly in anger as the soldier behind the two of us hit Vaan over the head with a gauntlet-covered hand, sending him to the floor without a sound. "Leave him Alone!" I managed to push a fraction of a Cure into the hit while Penelo distracted the throng, not enough to wake him up but enough to take away the chance of a concussion. And enough to sate my anger somewhat.

I barely paid attention as Balthier spoke to Penelo, but when she turned to look at Vaan's prone form, her eyes lit with recognition when they saw me and my mouth uttered more unplanned words.

"Penelo," I whispered low just low enough for most not to hear. "Don't worry, I'll take care of him."

She nodded and stepped back as we were restrained once more, Vaan half-dragged while I was pulled roughly to my feet, "Hey! Watch it!"

You can't really appreciate the fact of being sent to Nalbina until you experience it. On the map it looks like it's such a short distance and all we see in the game in a flashback, but in reality, they had to be transported and that took at least a few hours, and it did. The four of us were shipped off on an airship bound for Nalbina, split into two cells, though for some reason they separated us by age instead of gender. Which left me with the unconscious Vaan.

After nearly getting my head chopped off, I wasn't one to trust Imperials anymore. In the game we make it safely to Nalbina, but this is real now and I certainly wasn't in the game, who knows what could happen? I may be tired, but there is no way I'm going to let my guard down just yet.

Besides, I know for a fact that the guard assigned to my cell doesn't like me, judging by how forcefully he shoved my inside after I snapped at him about throwing Vaan.

Definitely no sleep for me. Instead, I concentrated on trying to get somewhat dry by channeling a very mild fire over my skin. It took time and concentration, but it was a good distraction.

It's surprising just how versatile the magick of Ivalice is.

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

By the time we reached Nalbina, I'd had a good deal of success with my drying. My clothes were completely dry again and my hair was only slightly damp, just enough to keep it from blowing all over the place when we left the airship.

I was so tired by that point that I didn't really care. I was sore and exhausted, both physically and magically, I like combat, but I'd had more than my fair share in the past five hours. All I wanted to do now was get to the prison and take a good long nap, I didn't even want to think about Barheim Passage right now.

Imperials, Steelings, Mimics . . . made me want to cry just thinking about it. Never mind the Queen and fighting our way through the Estersand to Rabanstre. And then we'd fly off to Bhujerba and run through the Lhusu Mines with Ba'Gamnan on our heels.

I think I just might kill my PS2 when she dares to show her little blonde head again.

I let my eyes close as we walked, taking the chance to get even a hint of rest now that the four of us were in the same place. My attempt at 'Doze-walking' wasn't interrupted, most likely because my hair his most of my face from view as I hadn't bothered to push it back.

I didn't open my eyes again until we came to a halt in front of a familiar room. The room Vaan wakes up to in the game. Complete with a Bangaa corpse on the sand-covered floor.

Vaan was the first to enter, roughly thrown inside by his guard, followed by Fran and Balthier who were able to keep their balance despite being bound. I wasn't so lucky, as my guard was seemingly still annoyed about my words on the ship and shoved me roughly inside.

I didn't comment on the roughness, but I heard Balthier snap out something as I fell to the ground. Unable to keep my balance in my tired state. With how Balthier and Fran were, I assumed they'd gotten some sleep on the way here, but they were also in better shape than I was, despite their low level.

"Oomph," I grunted as my head hit the floor hard, grimacing at the black creeping in on my vision, I had wanted a nap, but not like this. "Didn't have to be . . . so . . . rough."

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**A/N**: _Well, I had originally planned on getting this out a bit earlier, but my 'source' wasn't good enough for some of the scenes so I had to start a new game to refresh the more subtle bits. Hope you enjoyed it and of note, I'm taking a leaf from your book Lizardios, with the memories. It's just easier, considering how many people I'm supposed to know._

_I don't really think I did that good a job on the fight scenes, advice is welcome in that area._

_Oh, look! I broke 10k! Hah! Made my sister stare and say the world was ending, silly eight-year-old. Twenty-five pages isn't that long . . . is it?_

**Posted: 7/01/08**

10,102 words as of 8:10PM EST

**Edited: 7/10/08**

10,676 words as of 1:48AM EST


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